I guess I should watch these things when they first come on. But me....thanks to streaming...a revisit to a classic show might take twenty plus years. And, for the most part, I am glad I do.
Fresh on the heels of my Hulu rewatch of "Picket Fences" and and my first time gander at "Ally Mcbeal," friends suggested that I dive right into "Arrested Development." This way-beyond-its-time comedy originally aired on Fox from 2003 through 2006. It then meandered its way to Netflix from Seasons 4 and 5 circa 2013-2019.
Given that original Fox episodes were 22 minutes, I was able to knock off two to three in an evening. And boy oh boy, was that fun?? This sitcom had me howling out loud on multiple occasions. Politically incorrect, sharply wicked, and supremely cast, the adventures of the Bluth family had me enraptured. Indeed, Jason Bateman is playing the comedic version of his character in "Ozark"...years before he would be in the latter. So amazingly clever and foretelling.
Why had I missed this the first time?
One of the unsung heroes of this comedy is the off-screen narration by one of the show's producers, Ron Howard. His words devised to simply move the story along often feature just the right soupcon of snark. And sometimes even a mention of "The Andy Griffith Show." Sheer nirvana and brilliance.
And then...well, friends warned me.
Fox cancelled the show after three seasons in 2006. Fans clamored for its return and Netflix did just that in 2013. And people told me that, once I finished with the Fox episodes...well, prepare to be disappointed.
And I was and still am as I plod through the rest of this series. The major problem is that Season 4 on Netflix in 2013 opens exactly where they left off in 2006. A huge miscalculation by the writers. Why? Well, seven years had passed. The 16-year-old characters are now played by 23-year-olds. The character of Lindsay, as essayed by Ellen's main squeeze Portia DiRossi, obviously had plastic surgery or copious injections of Botox because her face and look changes completely.
And the structure of the show is different. Season 4 features 15 episodes but, when viewers were confused by odd flashbacks and then time jumps, producers re-edited Season 4 into 22 episodes. And it still doesn't work.
I continue on because even mediocre "Arrested Development" is light years ahead of anything else on TV. But just be forewarned if you get sucked in like I did.
Eventually, there will be episodes that...well...suck.
This may be an overstatement to some people but here goes...
I will remember when I heard that President Kennedy was shot.
I will remember where I was when 9/11 happened.
And I will remember when I heard that Vin Scully left us.
Fittingly, I was watching the Dodgers play the Giants in San Francisco. They came back from commercial and the man who wonderfully followed Vin to the Dodger booth, Joe Davis, started off a sentence.
He had sad news to report.
He didn't need to go any further. And I cried.
I knew Vin was not doing well. I am sure his life lost a lot when first his wife and then his friend Tom Lasorda passed on in January 2021. But he shouldered on and even got himself involved in social media for a bit.
But when he had no contribution whatsoever to the retirement of Gil Hodges' uniform number...a player he long campaigned for to be inducted into Cooperstown...I knew the end was near.
His life has ended, but his legend...and fan base...lives on for eternity.
For me, Vin Scully was perfect. The Sondheim of baseball. Every word lyrical and having a purpose. Or indeed something akin to the script of my favorite movie of all time "The Apartment." Every word leading eloquently to the next one.
I was lucky enough to meet Vin ("please don't call me Mr. Scully") on several occasions. Twice, when I won a charity auction to co-host "Dodger Talk." And, in the image above, at a Fordham University LA alumni gathering about eight years ago at the CBS Radford studios in Studio City. You see, he and I share the same college diploma. And, moreover, we both worked at the renowned WFUV-FM 90.7 college station. Many, many years apart, of course, but we were in the same Keating Hall location nonetheless. I am guessing Vin did some radio play-by-play of the Fordham baseball team while he was there. Hey, so did I. Vin probably did it exceptionally. I most certainly did not and I am sure there are still some pending complaints at the FCC.
Every time I did get to say "hi" to Vin, he was super gracious and welcoming. Of course, each time, I reminded him of our Fordham connection. The first instance where we met was before a game and I was doing the "Dodger Talk" thing and watching the game from the press box. Back then, the Dodgers had an elongated seventh inning stretch with both "God Bless America" and "Take Me Out to the Ball Game." Vin would use this break to stretch himself and visit the facilities. I did the same. As we passed each other at the mens' room door, Vin called out to me. "Hi there again, Len from Fordham." Two hours later, he had still remembered my name. But that was Vin Scully and I am sure legions of baseball fans here grew up with the guy and his voice is synonymous with warm summer evenings and transistor radios under the stars. I feel a little cheated myself. I really only got to enjoy Vin once I moved out to Los Angeles. Prior to that, he was simply somebody I knew about from afar. The only time I really heard or saw him was when he was on a talk show or doing a guest spot on "Mister Ed." A look at his IMDB listing tells me he was the narrator of some 1967 sitcom called "Occasional Wife." Had I known that when I was speaking with him, I'm sure I would have gotten extra star points for mentioning that. Indeed, you got to hear Vin in New York when he was doing the NBC Game of the Week. And, of course, his play-by-play of the 1986 World Series is forever stored in the memory drawers of all Mets fans. So, essentially, my Vin Scully exposure was not frequent prior to my LA move. But, once I did and I got sucked in every day when it was "time for Dodger baseball," I was a devotee of the first order. His brilliance day-to-day was unheralded. His stories and the love for the game were miraculous. This is a man who did it "old school" but from the best school.
When I would go to games early and dine in the Stadium Club, I would always peer into the press box to see Vin. Sitting in his seat two hours early and writing notes.
And notes and notes and notes. These tidbits would be shared with you during that night's broadcast. He was speaking to millions but it all had the sensation that you were the only person that mattered to Vin. It was the most intimate relationship between broadcaster and baseball fan. But isn't that how all of us got into the sport of baseball? Oh, sure, perhaps we got education from a father or a grandfather. But, for the most part, it's that voice from the radio or television that brought us the insight and the knowledge we needed to become true baseball fans. For the folks in Los Angeles and previously Brooklyn, that master class was taught by Vin. For me growing up in Mount Vernon, New York, it was the Mets holy trinity of Ralph Kiner, Bob Murphy and especially Lindsey Nelson. Later on, when my mother became a Mets fan in her later years, her professor was Tim McCarver. We all had our teachers. And our passion for the game came from their words and inflections. What Vin Scully did for fans over 67 years was really no different than what that announcer for your team in your town did. But, nobody likely did it better than Vin. Here's a guy who knew that sometimes the best way to report on action was to let you watch it with the roar of the crowd. I got to say my goodbyes in person that last 2016 weekend during his final home games, which turned out to be magical thanks to a walk-off homerun to clinch the division. His last call ever at Dodger Stadium could go down as one of his best of all time. Tears flowed as a recording playing his farewell in song..."The Wind Beneath My Wings," which he originally did for his wife 25 years ago. I cried. Just like I did last Tuesday when I heard the news that will never be forgotten.
Thanks Vin for everything.
Dinner last night: Had a big lunch so just some ice cream.
I've dealt with this pesky pests twice now in two years. Whenever there is major plumbing work in my apartment building, they seem to retreat...into my bathroom.
Last week, they took a hydrojet to some clogged pipes and the drain flies beat another hasty retreat to Chez Len. They come up through any opening and concentrate on the bathroom sink and toilet. And you can't swat at them. They move fast.
So the title of today's piece. What's the process? Well, it's very natural and it works.
Take a plastic cup and fill it halfway with water. To that, adding a few tablespoons of apple cider vinegar. That aroma is quite appealing to them. The coup de grace? A couple shots of any dish washing liquid like Palmolive and Dawn.
Put the cup on the back of the toilet tank or wherever you have been seeing them predominantly.
Within one day...
I count ten of these stupid things. The water and vinegar lures them in, but the soap liquid is absolute poison to them.
Dennis the Menace. My hero for six weeks in the second grade.
8: ROMAN EMPIRE GENERAL TIBERIUS DEFEATS DALMATIANS ON THE RIVER BATHINUS.
He beat up on dogs??? 101 of them??
881: LOUIS III OF FRANCE DEFEATS THE VIKINGS, AN EVENT CELEBRATED IN THE POEM "LUDWIGSLIED."
Ludwigs lied, Vikings died.
1492: CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS SETS SAIL FROM SPAIN.
Trying to prove that the only thing flat in this world was Twiggy.
1492: THE JEWS OF SPAIN ARE EXPELLED BY THE CATHOLIC MONARCHS.
Hmmm. On the same day as Columbus hightailing it out of town. Connecting the dots, I can only now assume that Columbus was not his real last name.
1527: THE FIRST KNOWN LETTER FROM NORTH AMERICA IS SENT BY JOHN RUT WHILE AT ST. JOHN'S, NEWFOUNDLAND.
It gets there five years later. Postage due.
1678: ROBERT LASALLE BUILDS THE "LE GRIFFON," THE FIRST KNOWN SHIP BUILT ON THE GREAT LAKES.
Later to be followed by the SS Carson and the SS Paar.
1783: MOUNT ASAMA ERUPTS IN JAPAN, KILLING 35,000 PEOPLE.
Between natural disasters, earthquakes, and Mothra, these people never catch a break.
1852: HARVARD WINS THE FIRST BOAT RACE WITH YALE, THE VERY FIRST AMERICAN INTERCOLLEGIATE ATHLETIC EVENT.
I wonder who won the brackets that day.
1900: THE FIRESTONE TIRE AND RUBBER COMPANY IS FOUNDED.
Before this happened, just where did idle nails go?
1914: DURING WORLD WAR I, GERMANY DECLARES WAR AGAINST FRANCE.
Don't tell me I have to root for the scummy French.
1921: ACTRESS MARILYN MAXWELL IS BORN.
Bob Hope shtupped her many times off on the Road to Adultery.
1923: CALVIN COOLIDGE IS SWORN IN AS THE 30TH PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES IN THE EARLY MORNING FOLLOWING THE DEATH OF WARREN G. HARDING THE PREVIOUS DAY.
Harding dropped dead. And how many Presidents have people wished the same thing for since?
1923: ACTRESS JEAN HAGEN IS BORN.
If you want to see her best performance, rent "Singin' in the Rain." She almost steals the picture.
1926: SINGER TONY BENNETT IS BORN.
My grandmother hated him. "Stupid guinea." I am simply quoting, folks.
1934: ADOLF HITLER BECOMES THE SUPREME LEADER OF GERMANY BY JOINING THE OFFICES OF PRESIDENT AND CHANCELLOR INTO FUHRER.
Talk about being pushy. Years later, Diana Ross would also become a Supreme leader.
1936: JESSE OWENS WINS THE 100 METER DASH AT THE BERLIN OLYMPICS.
If I were in Germany at the time, I would have run like the wind, too.
1940: ACTOR MARTIN SHEEN IS BORN.
Few people realize that he's almost as insane as his son. The guy really thought he was President of the Untied States.
1949: THE NATIONAL BASKETBALL ASSOCIATION IS FOUNDED IN THE UNITED STATES.
And, at last, tall Black guys finally have a career path.
1951: ACTOR JAY NORTH IS BORN.
"Hey, Mr. Wilson!!!!"
1958: THE NUCLEAR SUBMARINE USS NAUTILUS TRAVELS BENEATH THE ARCTIC ICE CAP.
Now there's a trip Carnival Cruises doesn't offer.
1966: COMIC LENNY BRUCE DIES.
His last words? Fuck me.
1983: ACTRESS CAROLYN JONES DIES.
Morticia, mortician.
1995: ACTRESS IDA LUPINO DIES.
Mrs. Howard Duff to you.
2001: ACTOR CHRISTOPHER HEWETT DIES.
Mr. Belvedere's bell is silenced.
2004: METS BROADCASTER BOB MURPHY DIES.
No happy recap on this day. One of the great baseball voices.
2008: BRAVES BROADCASTER SKIP CARAY DIES.
And, on the same day four years later, one of the most overrated baseball voices kicks the bucket. The Caray family of shills is perhaps the biggest mystery ever in sports broadcasting. Harry, Skip, Chip. They all suck.
2019: TWENTY THREE PEOPLE ARE KILLED AND TWENTY-THREE ARE INJURED IN A SHOOTING AT EL PASO, TEXAS.
